


tangent

by 4wholecats



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, BUT LIKE. NOT REAL TORTURE. PRACTICE TORTURE HE'S FINE., Celebrations, Drinking, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:15:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29943660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4wholecats/pseuds/4wholecats
Summary: Franz passes his final test and is set to become Eirika's retainer. Forde deems this worthy of celebration.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	tangent

**Author's Note:**

> the background pairings are franz/amelia and forde/kyle
> 
> i just think that forde is a good brother :)

“You home?” 

Forde’s knock on the door is light, just in case the apartment’s resident is already asleep. It wouldn’t be surprising, given the circumstances. 

But no, a muffled grunt sounds from somewhere beyond the wall, followed by the shuffling of feet and the twisting of metal as the doorknob shifts. Half of Franz’s face peeks out of the quilt he wears as a cloak; exhausted and wary.

“Hey,” Forde says, careful to keep his voice gentle. “You’re still up, huh?”

“Mmm…” The quilt slides off of the back of Franz’s head as he nods, blinking in the light of the hallway. 

“Can I come in? Or are you…” Forde leans on the wall, eyebrow raised mischievously, “... occupied?”

Franz’s neutral expression momentarily twists as he rolls his eyes, pulling the door the rest of the way open. “She’s not here. I’m seeing her tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see… so you planned your week off in advance, you sly little-”

“Forde…” Franz groans, closing the door behind his brother. The look of despair on his face is an exaggerated one; one that hides a smile at its edges. 

Forde places his bag carefully on Franz’s table. “Well, does she at least know you’re alright?”

“Of course, of course… the first thing I did when I got out was send a note her way… I’m excited to see her tomorrow. To tell her that I passed.”

“I’m sure getting only a note from your boyfriend, who you haven’t seen in several days and you know for a fact has been through some shit, is very comforting to Amelia. Not anxiety-inducing at all.”

“Oh, shove it. I was planning on going right to sleep, anyways. You’re lucky I let you in.”

“No,  _ you’re _ lucky you let me in. Where do you keep your cups?”

“Shelf left of the sink.”

“Gotcha.”

Franz sits heavily on a stool, his cheek against the flat wood of the table. Forde lets him be for a moment, turning his attention back to his bag and pulling a bottle of wine free. Nothing too intense, he’d made sure, but enough alcohol to be worthy of a celebration like this. It’s not every day your brother gets a promotion. Or rather, will get a promotion. The official announcement was yet to be made, but he was already functionally Princess Eirika’s retainer, so in truth, this celebration is actually quite late. They just hadn’t had the chance to sit down and talk very much during the war. 

Oh well. Better late than never. 

Forde places one of the glasses within Franz’s sideways field of vision. “Bottoms up.”

The younger man straightens up lethargically, poking a hand out of his multicolored cloak and pulling the drink closer. Forde takes a seat across from him, downing his glass before reaching to pour himself another. 

“So. How did it go?”

Franz frowns, a brief flash of misery crossing his face. “It was awful. Just as awful as you said it would be.”

Forde can tell. The arm that pokes out from Franz’s blanket is still criss-crossed with light scars; they would be completely faded by morning, but for now they remain a painful reminder. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Franz takes a slow drink before looking up at his brother. “...I don’t know if I have much to talk about, really… Nothing you don’t have experience with yourself…”

“True, true… you’re lucky though,” Forde remarks, pouring himself a third glass of wine before nudging the bottle out of easy reach. “You got a warning beforehand. When I had to go for interrogation training, they kidnapped me right out of my bed in the middle of the night- I thought I was done for.”

“How scary…”

“For realism’s sake, they told me afterwards- group of conniving bastards…” Forde drawls, the face of his so-called ‘instructor’ floating to the forefront of his mind. “...wonder why you got a proper warning?”

“I told Kyle the other week that I keep a knife under my pillow now. Maybe that has something to do with it?”

“Why the hell do you do that?”

“In case.”

“In case of what?”

“Attackers.”

Forde shakes his head, exasperated. “I mean, I suppose…”

“Also, I think they went easy on me…” Franz says, worrying the rim of his glass with his fingernails, “It was pretty scary, but not nearly as bad as the stuff you and the others told me about…”

“Well, you lived through a war, so…”

“That’s what I figured. I guess training isn’t really super necessary when you’ve experienced the real thing.”

“You got… interrogated... during the war?” Forde raises an eyebrow, concerned.

Franz shakes his head. “No, no one ever caught me, but you know… the fighting and all... If I can live through that, then I can live through getting stabbed a few times without opening my mouth.”

“Fair enough.”

Franz glances up at him, rubbing one tired eye with the heel of his palm. “Did they try to make you talk at all? When you were captured?”

Forde shakes his head, long hair falling in his eyes. “They tried a little bit, but we genuinely didn’t know the answers to their questions, so they gave up after a while. Guess they had better things to do.”

“Was it like training? The, uh, interrogation, I mean.”

Forde nods. “A bit. A little knife jab here, a little kick to the stomach there… honestly, I thought they weren’t putting enough effort into it, or maybe my skin is tougher than I figured.”

Franz smiles. “None of you looked particularly endangered when we all reunited…”

“Nah, we were all fine. Hungry as hell, but fine. Even Ephraim managed to keep his trap shut the whole time, and he never got trained for anything like that.”

“He also didn’t know the answers to anything they were asking, probably.”

“That too. I think the guards got irritated with us and left us alone, for the most part. Between me cracking jokes and Ephraim’s… Ephraim-ness… I think we were more of an annoyance than an asset.”

“Cracking jokes?”

“Oh yeah,” Forde starts, sitting up a bit straighter and rolling his shoulders. “Even during my training- I think the instructor let me off early because I wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Apparently, I get a little silly under heavy stress. I remember him saying that being locked in a room with me for three days was more torture for him than it was for me.”

“That’s absurd…”

“True though. You know me- if things start to look hopeless, I like to keep a good outlook regardless.”

“I’m sure Kyle and Ephraim appreciated that.”

“Oh no, I think Kyle would have killed me had he not been chained to the wall.”

“Sounds about right…” Franz finishes his first glass of wine, staring at the cup as he pushes it away. “To tell the truth… I’m a bit jealous of that attitude… I think I cried a lot during training. I don’t remember most of it, but I remember crying…” he frowns, drawing the quilt around his shoulders a bit closer. “A bit embarrassing, don’t you think?”

Forde shakes his head. “Nah… everyone cries during training. It’s sort of designed to make you cry. They spend three days kicking you around a dark box with no other human contact. If you don’t cry during, then you cry after.”

“You just said you spent the whole time making jokes?”

“And crying. I’m a great multitasker.”

Franz frowns. “I bet Kyle and Seth didn’t cry.”

“Oh they both definitely did. I remember, because Kyle spent the night after sniffling into my shoulder like a baby, and despite Seth’s talk of ‘necessary evils’, if you catch him in the wrong mood, he’ll talk about it just as distastefully as I do.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Forde considers the wine bottle, still out of arm's reach. Maybe just one more glass…

Franz lightly slaps his hand away as he grabs towards it. “I’m the one off this week, not you.”

“Calm down, mister responsible; one more glass isn’t going to make me drunk. I brought the weak stuff because I knew you probably weren’t feeling well.”

“Still,” Franz remarks, retracting his hand once Forde does the same, “It’s the middle of the week. Don’t you have recruits to train tomorrow? Showing up with half a hangover isn’t setting much of an example.”

“Hah, example, huh?” Forde relinquishes his empty glass once and for all. “Funny enough, that’s half of the reason I came here tonight; I have news.”

“News?”

“Good news.”

Franz peers at him, curious.

“I’m quitting.”

“How is that good news?!”

Forde raises a hand, planting his elbow on the table. “Relax. Let me explain. See, now that you’re gonna be officially promoted, I’ve decided to, you know- take a step back, right? I don’t need to set a good example for you anymore, because you are already far better a knight than I’ll ever be-” he pauses to shoosh his brother before the younger man can open his mouth, “Oi, I’m not done yet. What was I saying… Oh yeah! So I’m quitting. I’m gonna pursue my passions from now on.”

“Your… passions?”

“I got an offer from a very esteemed customer.”

“A painting offer?”

“Yep.”

Franz narrows his eyes, suspicious. “From who?”

“Well, you know the Princess and I are rather close,” he brags, waving his hand. 

“She wants you to paint something for her?”

“Well- yes, she wants to commission a portrait of the late king, but that’s not all. You see, the old court painter fled in the chaos of the war… I think he’s in Carcino now… so our gracious Princess offered me his job.”

“No way.”

“Yes way. I’ve got a contract to sign and pay to negotiate, but as of next week, I’m passing my buck to Kyle and dipping. We’re in peacetime; if Ephraim needs another retainer immediately, I know a few people who might be a good fit.” He winks at Franz. “Is Amelia looking for a pay raise?”

“She just got here- she should at least settle into life in Renais before you give her actual responsibilities...” Franz’s eyebrows are still raised as he soaks in the flood of information. “...but I’ll keep it in the back of my mind.”

“Good. I think she’d be great at that kind of thing… especially if she’s got you to help her out.”

Franz settles back into his blanket with a hum. He’s exhausted, Forde can see it in his body language. He’d better start packing up his things so that the poor boy could finally get some sleep…

“But anyways… we can go over the details more later… you look like you might fall over and pass out.” Forde smirks. Franz rubs his eyes again. “I’ll get out of your hair… try to get some sleep, alright? Don’t wanna be tired tomorrow when the lady comes over, right?” He winks, receiving a light kick to the shin in return. “All right, all right, I’ll stop… Can’t be poking fun at my future superiors, can I?”

“You make fun of Kyle literally every day.”

“That’s different. We’re in love, he can’t arrest me.”

“That's… not how that works…”

Forde wanders over to the door, hands in his pockets. Franz follows after him, shuffling across the room as his socks catch on nails sticking out from the floor. 

Before he leaves, Forde turns to his brother. The kid’s gotten taller since the start of the war, that’s for sure. He’s an adult now- or nearly so, looking more and more like their father with each passing day. Perhaps one day, he’ll grow a beard, and then the picture will be complete.

He reaches out to ruffle Franz’s hair, to the younger man’s chagrin. “Really though. I am proud of you. This is big!”

“Thanks, Forde,” Franz responds, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth as he bats away the offending hand. “Sorry for being so tired… I wish I had the energy to celebrate properly…”

“Nah, don’t be sorry. We have all the time in the world for that now. Go catch up on your beauty sleep, I’ll be back to irritate you later.”

Franz grins genuinely now, and Forde shoulders his bag with a grunt. It’s lighter now that he’s not traveling, emptied of rations and flasks and weapons. Only the half-empty bottle of wine remains, ready to be set aside for the next big celebration.

He offers a goodbye, and with that, he shuts the door.

**Author's Note:**

> comment if you enjoyed!


End file.
